Tiberius
by Mr. Raleigh D
Summary: Timothy Tiberius Turner was just an average young boy with fairies who grants him his every wish befriends a traumatized girl with a traumatic past.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Fairly OddParents or Ben 10. They belong to their rightful owners._

**_Hi there people of the Internet, this is Mr. Raleigh D bringing you a new story for the reboot of "The Invictus Wish", "Tiberius". I hope you all enjoy this fic as much as I did writing it. Please leave a few reviews, they are always appreciated. Thank you!_**

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**PROLOGUE**

Log: January 23, 2198 CE. My name is Dr. Robert Finch, I am a psychologist working for the Administration for Social Security in Willgradine Hospital. It was an ordinary day in Newton, nothing special, but nothing bare. It was indifferent like any other day. Day by day, the news reported of two large political disputes on a verge of a major global war. I doubt that it was going to happen. We all did. Flying in the great swarm of cars in a vast city devoid of life and just, I looked around by the window as I drove nonchalantly through the bee-like highway. I had a call just before I left that a client was heading his way, an old client no doubt by the way.

His records to what I've been told had been erased. There was nothing on him, he was invisible to the system but yet he is still paid by Social Security. How can a man invisible to the world still recognized only by a pin-print ? It was a mystery to me.

I finally made it to the great building, the Hospital that I worked for; I flew my car and parked it to my designated parking space. I had all of my gear and closed the car door and approached to the building, readying myself for the client I was about to meet. On my way to the door was a lovely young woman, she appeared to be in her late thirties. She had oddly pink hair and had a sultry look to her hourglass figure. She had a son, one with violate hair and looked like a hoodlum masked by direct innocence. I couldn't tell by how wild his hair was. But who am I to judge.

I reached up to the woman and introduced myself, "Hello, my is Dr. Finch. Nice to meet you. Is this your son..." I took a look at my card, "Mr. Tiberius?"

"Oh no, my good man. This is my son D.J, we just moved from the Eastern Correlation a couple of months ago," she told.

"Oh so I've been told."

"You look like a man who has little patience," said the woman.

"What makes you say?" I furrowed. The woman paused.

"Just a lucky guess," she said.

I shrugged, "Well, its great to meet you, Miss..."

"Ms. Cosma, sir," she shook my hand.

"Ms. Cosma, it was a pleasure."

...

I walked inside looking at the bright white scenery. The Nurse Droids cared for the weak and the ill as the offspring sat on the floor watching cartoons and/or played with the generic games us hospital folk could provide for them to keep them occupied. I looked to the desk to see Ms. Smith's permanent scowl across her face.

"Mr. Finch, your client is on his way," she informed.

"Okay, can you show me the records of the man?"

"What records?"

"The client that I'm about to meet. I can't..."

"When I mean 'what records' I really mean there are no records of them. No education status, no martial status, financial, political, miscellaneous, nothing. There is nothing about him in the system.

"Then how?"

"I don't know how he can still be alive after all this time being invisible in the system. All I could say is try to use some imagination...if you got any," she said.

...

I entered my office with no files and no info about this man. Who was he? How can a man be this invisible - but then something struck me. Recalling what Ms. Smith said, she stated that and I quote, "I don't know how he can still be alive after all this time." How old was this guy?

I straightened up my desk for his arrival and everything trying look and present myself as neat and tidy as I possibly can. Finally there was a buzzer.

"Mr. Finch, your client has arrived, I repeat, your client has arrived," said Ms. Smith over the intercom.

"Thank you, Ms. Smith," I said.

Coming into the door slowly was a very old man. He wore pale blue high-water pants with a thick brown, leather belt, dark brown boots, a lumberjack-colored striped shirt, and a black fedora. He slowly walked in and closed the door. He was carrying a live rose in his right hand. Strange, but not odd.

I got up from my chair with a business smile and approached him.

"Hello, My name is Robert Finch, you must be Mr. Tiberius."

"And that I am," he croaked, "And that I am."

"How about you have a seat Mr. Tiberius. Make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you Mr. Finch," said Mr. Tiberius. He sat on the chair opposite of me. I got ready to gather as much information as I could possibly get. I had my pen and paper ready to go.

"Alright Mr. Tiberius I'm going to ask you a few questions about...well about your life if you don't mind at all sir," he said.

"In what inch do you want to know. My memory is shot after all those years, son," he said.

"Just try to remember the best way you can," I said.

"I can't," he said holding a rose, "My memory is long gone, Mr. Finch. Its all scraps of a distant past."

As it may be true to ones age to have a few fragments of their past, he seemed to be holding on to that rose pretty well, "With all Mr. Finch, I believe..."

"I see," I said understandingly, deciding to take another approach. Rather be being direct, I decided to be indirect. I had to pick something that is well, not out there, not in the script to be one's add. I took a sharp gander at the rose carefully.

"That's a nice rose, Mr. Tiberius," I said.

Mr. Tiberius petted the head rather softly, smiling, "Yes it is."

"Do you remember who gave it to you? A cousin? A grandchild?"

"I have no grandchildren. It would be nice if I had any though."

"You live alone?" I asked writing it down on the notebook.

"Yes. I live alone."

"Do you wish that there was someone to look after you?" I asked worried.

"I'm afraid someone already is," he said.

"Who?"

"Someone."

"Care to tell me their name?"

"I don't remember their name, but I know she's watching me," he said.

"Who's watching you?"

"I don't remember," he replied. I sighed.

"Okay, let's start on the basics, shall we?"

"Okay."

"Care to tell me your name? Birthday? Where you were born?"

"My name is Timothy Tiberius Turner; I was born in March 21, 1992 at 7:03pm Pacific Standard Time in a place once known as Dimsdale, California, United States of America," he said. My eyes bugged. Did I just hear...

My pen dropped after hearing that...obviously either this man is nuts or he's just incredibly off his rocker.

"You was born when?" I asked again.

"1992 sir," he said, "I am 205 years old turning 206 this coming March."

"Impossible, you can't be that old...how'd..."

"Do you believe in miracles, Mr. Finch?" he asked me.

"I don't believe in miracles," I said.

"Then you don't believe in yourself," he said, "The world is not all good, but its not all evil either. It's balanced. If we lived in a bad world, what is good; and if we lived in a demented world, what is good? Without good, there is no evil, and without evil there is no good. It's the ying and the yang that cancels out the other to a universal number."

"And what number is that?"

"0," he said with a smile.

"Meaning?"

"Life," he said looking at the rose, "0 is the beginning of beginnings, because everything starts with nothing."

"You been looking at that rose for a minute now," I said, "What makes the rose special to you?"

"Because she gave this rose to me?" Tiberius said.

"Who gave this rose to you?"

"I don't remember."

"Try to remember," I said, "It'll do you some good. Try to remember the first thing you had done in your childhood that had led up to the rose. Timothy, what was childhood like leading up to this point?"

Tiberius took a sharp glance at me before he turned back at the rose, "It was the summer of '02..."

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**Author's Notes:**_ Hi guys of the Internet! Yeah I went all OC on you guys for a minute, but I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter to make you all keep begging for more. Please always leave reviews, they are always appreciated. Until we meet again, I bid you all an adieu. This is Mr. Raleigh D signing out!_

_**D-Man out!**_


	2. Great Basin

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairly Odd Parents or Ben 10. They belong to their rightful owners.

**CHAPTER ONE**

MY FATHER, my friends and I were returning from camp under the baking sun of the Great Basin. It was a long drive and I struggled to keep myself entertained during this trip. I tried making calls but like all Wi-Fi connected contraptions, finding a signal is just as hard as finding water in the middle of the Sahara Desert. Watching the poles pass by me as we rode in the hot barren landscape on this empty road. There was nothing in this vicinity. Back in the day, the desert was...well desert. Now the desert is just a couple of super-cities engulfing a continent miles on end covering an entire country with its artificialness. The summers there are a blasé.

I was just 10 years old riding with my old man and friends - if I could ever call them my friends. Chester and AJ sat in the back quietly remembering the hell we had to endure. I was one of them. My dad was the biggest klutz I have ever known. Every time he tried to repair something breaks, every time something is repaired, he will find a way to "repair" it. Like all the people where I was from he was not the brightest. In fact he was the most dangerous.

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"How was your father dangerous Timothy?" I asked writing everything down.

"I don't remember," he said, "I don't remember how dangerous he was...all I know was that he was."

I tapped the pen against my chin coming up with a few theories on how dangerous Timothy portrayed this man to be, "Did he ever touch you in a place where he should have?"

Timothy nodded, "No."

"I thought you said that you don't remember how dangerous he was."

"I don't. But common sense says that's stupid. If my father was a rapist then I won't be here today. If my father was some sort of psychopath my mind would assimilate his behavior creating a monster. And I will have you know that I am not a monster," he clocked, "I was just an average kid."

"My apologies Timothy..."

"No need...everyone makes mistakes from time to time...you were just curious," he said, "you asked a question and I answered it, that seems fair am I right?"

I nodded, "Continue on."

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"This is the last time I ever go on a trip with Timmy's dad," said Chester.

"I concur," AJ said, "My back is aching man from sleeping on the ground for a fortnight," he said to Chester, "Hey Timmy what say you?" AJ asked me.

"I don't know guys," I began, "I kinda like spending time with my pops," I lied as he continued singing his tune off-key.

Suddenly, as if we saw this coming, the car putted.

"Oh no," said my Pop, "Please don't die on me."

The car stopped and died. The front of the hood blew up black smoke forcing it to blast itself open.

"Damn," he said turning to us, "Mind my swearing kids uhh, it seems like the engine had finally died."

We groaned.

"Don't worry dad," I said, "I think you'll figure out a way."

"As if," said Chester.

"Ahh hush you," my Pop dismissed, "I'll get this ol' chipper back into shape in no time. in the meantime you all can go out and play while I get this car running again!" he said elatedly.

We groaned once more.

We were in the middle of the god damn desert with very limited supplies and very limited patience.


End file.
